Mom and I had a long conversation on Saturday which made me feel rather strange, and I can’t quite put my finger on why. I can’t even remember how it started, but I know at one point I was explaining something to her about how my head works (and being more open with her than I have been in some time, which in itself is a good thing) and I was describing it in terms of which parts were like my dad and which like her, and from there we got to tracing personality types and issues back through the family tree and seeing how the repercussions of my forebears’ issues are still being felt generations later. Mom told lots of anecdotes, and I learned some things about my family I’d never even suspected. Her reminiscent mood outlasted my ability to absorb it, though, and I ended up feeling a bit overwrought and tearful – there was nothing to be upset about really, but you know the way when you have a lot to process, any more just feels like too much of a burden? Overall, though, it was good to talk like that. There isn’t much of a tradition of passing on family history on either side of my family, so it was good to be made more aware of my roots; and also it felt like it deepened the relationship between me and Mom to be aware of all the other ties that bind us besides the main mother-daughter link.